Night Veil (Indigo Court #2)

Night Veil (Indigo Court #2) Page 26

“I’m sorry.” I stared at him. “There’s so much I still don’t remember, but if there’s anything I regret, it’s hurting . . . killing . . . you.”

Chatter bit his lip. “I wish I could tell you everything, but Lainule would have my head. She’s convinced you need to figure this out for yourself. But I witnessed the devastation the two of you caused in your wake. And though by then I was dead, I now know that the potion you took was created by one of the most powerful sorceresses of that time period. The effects brought you back together in this lifetime, across time and space.”

“I know that—” I started to say, but he shook his head, cutting me off.

“No, you still don’t understand. You’re bound together, and nothing but death can keep you apart. When Grieve is hungry enough for you, he’s going to tear through Myst’s guards until either he’s dead or they’re in shreds, and then he’ll come for you. If we can get him out, so much the better. Because I’ve done some research. Cicely, that potion you took? It did more than simply bind you.”

“I know—it brought us back together this time around.”

“It did more than that,” Chatter said.

A pit in my stomach opened up. How many times Grieve and I’d been together in past lives, I didn’t know and wasn’t sure if Grieve even knew. But our time together as Shy and Cherish had been strong enough to bond us forever. At the end, when we were cornered by our enemies, we’d taken a potion to bring us back together in the next life. But now something tugged at the back of my mind—something I felt I should remember.

“What did it do? Tell me.”

Chatter let out a long sigh. “When one of you dies this time, it will take the other with them. That potion bound you together forever. Not just for the next lifetime.”

“Holy crap,” Rhiannon said. “Then if we don’t rescue Grieve . . . if Myst kills him . . .”

“Myst will also kill Cicely. That’s why Cicely took on Grieve’s scars from the whip. And if she’s terribly hurt, he’ll be the one to bear her pain.” Chatter looked unhappy. “When Grieve first told me—as Shy—that he intended to have the potion made, I tried to stop him. I tried to persuade Grieve not to go through with it, but he wouldn’t listen. He was blinded by the venom of your bite.”

I stared at him, breathing hard. No . . . no . . . I couldn’t have enchanted him. “We loved each other,” I said, hoarsely.

“Yes, you did, just like you love him now. And I’m surprised you’re keeping it together so well this time. But Kaylin was right—you’re sucked in by the intoxication; you can’t help it, just like he couldn’t help it. Another few bites and your common sense may flee.”

That scared the hell out of me. I exhaled and slumped back into the chair. “How do I keep my head clear? What should I do?”

“We can try some sort of counterenchantment.” Kaylin shrugged. “There are some powerful spells that might counter the venom’s effect without breaking your connection to Grieve. Leo was talking about the idea earlier to me. He said that Anadey may know of a way. He asked me to bring it up, because he thought you wouldn’t listen to him if he did.”

That was an even scarier thought, but the more I mulled it over, the more sense it made. I loved Grieve, but my obsession could all too easily put friends in danger. “All right. I’ll ask her. But damn . . . I hate this.”

“I know. But don’t be afraid of breaking your connection—from what Chatter says, I don’t think there’s any real way to do that. You guys are linked, like it or not.”

I picked up the phone, not wanting to bother Anadey after the tragedy at the diner, but this was too important to ignore. As I punched in her number, I realized that I dreaded the thought of countering Grieve’s enchantment over me. Suppose Chatter was wrong? Suppose my love for him died away? Suppose I found out that the venom of his bite was the only true link we had left? What if I emerged from the spell not caring about whether he lived or died?

Anadey picked up the phone and I explained what I wanted. “Leo said you could help. Can you?” I held my breath, hoping she’d say no.

“I think so . . . at least, I can give it a try. Come over now and we’ll see what we can do.” She hung up, sounding tired.

I stared at the receiver. Kaylin was watching me closely, and I realized everybody was waiting to hear what I had to say.

“Yeah, she says she can help.” I reluctantly replaced the receiver on the cradle and let out a long sigh. “I don’t like this, but to make sure you guys are safe, I’ll do it.” I grabbed my keys and slid into my jacket.

“Do you want us to come with you?” Rhiannon asked.

I shook my head. “Nah. Unless you’re afraid I’m not going through with it.” I gave her a long look, challenging her to call me a liar. Of course, Rhia wouldn’t, but I was feeling under the gun and really itching for a place to lash out.

She gazed at me softly, then touched my arm. “Come with me.”

I followed her into the parlor. “What?”

“Cicely, I know you think we’re against you but we’re not. Leo’s being an ass, and I am so sorry for the crap he’s given you—if you want, I’ll put him out. But we all want the same things: Myst dead, the town free, Grieve home safe. And”—she lowered her voice—“my mother . . . I want her to rest. For good. I can’t stand the thought that Myst turned her into a vampire.”

I hung my head, trying to swim up through the depths of depression. Everything was so fucked up that I couldn’t see the bottom from where I was standing. Enfolding my cousin in my arms, I patted her back and kissed her hair.

“I’d give anything—even Grieve—to be able to give you your mother back again. Remember: I loved her, too. She was the only steadying force I ever knew in my life, aside from Ulean. Please, never think I’m angry at you. I hold my anger for those who deserve it. Myst—Lannan . . . even Leo. Right now, I could take them all out. Well, maybe not Leo, but I’d like to give him a bruised butt. But you . . . chica, we’re family. We’re twin cousins—remember?”

She smiled then, tears in her eyes. “I remember when we were young. How much fun we had. Life seemed so full of promise, until Krystal took you away. After that, I still had fun, but there was always something missing. And that missing piece was you. Cicely, we’re solstice babies; I’m the light, you’re the dark. We balance each other out.”

I nodded. “Wipe your eyes. Get some dinner. I’ll be back later. We’ll see what Anadey can do.”

As I let go of her and moved to the door, she clasped my hand. “I know this is hard for you—”

“The hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

With that, she let go and I headed over to Anadey’s, to see if she could release me from something I’d give anything not to let go of.

Anadey was wearing a long black robe when she opened the door, and she looked as tired as I felt. She stood back and I entered the house. Peyton was in the corner, curled up with a book, and waved when she saw me.

“Are you sure you’re up for this, so soon after . . . what happened at the diner?” The last thing I wanted was to cause Anadey more pain.

“It will help me take my mind off today.” Her voice was grave. She motioned for me to sit down. “Tell me everything.”

I did, including our plan to rescue Grieve and hide him in a safe house. Anadey said nothing while I spoke, just blinked her way through what I had to say. After I finished, I sat back, waiting.

“I think I can help you. In fact, it won’t be that difficult. But you have to trust me. Do you trust me, Cicely?” She gazed at me with those brilliant eyes of hers. Anadey: the daughter of the most powerful witch who had ever lived in New Forest. Anadey: Peyton’s mother. Anadey: one of our only allies. And I was about to put myself in her hands, to let her work her magic on me.

I paused, holding her gaze. After a moment, I slowly nodded. “I trust you.”

“Then go into the bathroom and bathe—I’ve set up a ritual bath for you. After you finish, return, naked. Peyton—you must leave. You shouldn’t be in the house while we’re working. Be careful, though—the Shadow Hunters could be anywhere.” She gave her daughter a long look.

Peyton bit her lip, then turned to me. “Are you sure you want to do this, Cicely? Think about it . . .”

“Don’t you trust me to treat your friend right?” Anadey turned to Peyton. “After all we’ve been through, do you doubt my word? Is that your father’s doing? Did he lie about me to you in that letter he sent?” She sounded bitter.

“No, damn it! I just want to be sure Cicely realizes what she’s doing. This has nothing to do with you—or my father!” Peyton grabbed her jacket, then turned back to me. “Give the word and I’m out of here. I will support whatever you choose to do, but I want to hear it from your own lips. I just have a bad feeling about it.”

I gave her a faint smile. “I love you, too, Peyton. And thanks—for caring. But I have to do this. If I don’t, I put everybody I love in danger.”

She nodded. “That’s all I needed to hear. I’ll see you later, lady.” To her mother, she glowered, but said, “I’ll be careful. You better be, too.”

When we were alone, Anadey let out a long sigh. “I wish she’d quit blaming me for being angry about her father. He’s a sleaze and a drunk. He ran out on us, leaving me to cope with a young girl, and never once checked in to see how she was doing. Never once did he send support for her—I had to fend for the both of us on my own. And now he wants back in her life? I’m convinced he’ll try to take her away from me.”

I lightly put my hand on the older woman’s arm. “Don’t do this to yourself. You know Peyton adores you—she loves you so much. How can you believe that someone who’s a relative stranger could come in and destroy your relationship with her that easily?”

She wavered, and I could see she was thinking about what I’d said, but then she shook her head. “It’s just too dangerous . . . I can’t chance it . . .”

“Chance what?”

“Never mind.” Her smile returned and she pointed toward the bathroom. “Here, drink this. It will put you in the right mood. Go immerse yourself in the bath and clean with the soap I put there. Then return here, naked.”

I downed the drink—it tasted like apple juice—and then excused myself and went into the bathroom. The walls were soft rose-petal pink, and the bathtub and fixtures were painted porcelain. The tub was filled with steaming water and a froth of bubbles that immediately calmed me down. As I stripped down and slowly lowered myself into the water, the heat seeped through my muscles and I leaned back, letting the magic of the herbs work their wonders.

All my angst and worry seemed to drift away, out of my muscles, out of my heart, and I relaxed for the first time in days. The blood fever felt like it had worked its way out of my system, and I slowly bathed with the soap that Anadey had left. It was a golden brown, and as I smelled it, I recognized honey and oatmeal, valerian and comfrey, lavender and newly mown grass. I lathered up and then, holding my breath and closing my eyes, slid beneath the surface, letting the water cover my head before breaking through again. I gasped, then wiped my eyes on a hand towel.

Cicely, something doesn’t feel right.

Ulean? I didn’t know you’d come with me.

I think you need to get out of here right now.

I bit my lip, wavering. What do you sense? Is there anything riding the slipstream?

A pause, then: No. But I just have an uneasy prescience about this. Please, leave. Go home.

Wondering what was up, I slowly emerged from the tub and wiped off. As I draped my pendant over my head, I began to notice that I was feeling lightheaded. I sat down on the bench to the side of the vanity and tried to collect my thoughts.

Ulean, I don’t feel well—I’m feeling woozy.

Cicely, get out of here. Now!

I stumbled up and tried to gather my clothing but kept dropping pieces. Finally, I tried to shove myself into my jeans but couldn’t manage the legs. I threw on my jacket, ignoring my bra and top, which were somewhere on the floor. As I opened the door and staggered out, Anadey was there to meet me.

“Anadey—something’s wrong. I don’t feel so good. I think I’d better go home.”

“Nothing’s wrong, Cicely. I just had to make certain you were relaxed. This is a delicate spell. Now, take off your jacket and let’s get on with the casting. We don’t have all day.”

Everything seemed terribly normal, but when I stared into Anadey’s eyes, I saw a flickering light that I didn’t like. It was the light of betrayal. I pushed past her, attempting to make my way to the door, but once again I stumbled, and this time she grabbed me by the arm and jerked me back. She was horribly strong against my drugged state.

Off balance, I crashed to the floor. The room was spinning now, and I was blinking, trying to clear my sight, which had gone blurry. “What did you do to me, Anadey? What did you put in the drink?”

She tugged my jacket off me and then, grabbing me beneath both arms, half-lifted, half-dragged me into a circle of salt and herbs that she’d laid out in the middle of the living room floor. When we reached the center, she dropped me onto the floor, then stepped out of the circle and whispered a few words.

I forced myself to my hands and knees, crawling slowly across the twisting floor, to the edge of the salt. But try as I might, I couldn’t force myself to cross the barrier. I tried to scatter the salt, but my hand met an invisible force field as it neared the edge of the circle.